Power Surge (Anna Jennings Super Novel Book 1)

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Power Surge (Anna Jennings Super Novel Book 1) Page 4

by E. J. Whitmer


  A bear? Who says that? I’m not a bear. I just need an hour to myself every morning. I need my coffee and my granola and a closed office door. I’m not a bear.

  “You’re totally a bear,” came Blake’s voice from outside my office. I glared at the door and flipped it off.

  An hour later, I opened my office door and found Mae so she could finish her story about Connor’s broken tibia. After offering the obligatory condolences and hugs, I returned to my office.

  By the time eleven rolled around, I was well on my way to a very productive work day. I was just giving myself a mental “way to go” when Lloyd Vance walked in, followed by Eric Blake and Lilith Hines, our Human Resources VP. Awesome.

  “Good morning, Ms. Jennings. May we borrow a moment of your time?” Lloyd asked, as he chose his seat, wedging his rather large derriere into my guest chair.

  “Absolutely. Please, have a seat,” I answered as I searched Eric’s eyes for a sign of what was to come. He stared back, his eyes revealing nothing. Lilith shut the door and took her seat beside Lloyd.

  Lilith was pretty in a matronly way. She was a few inches shorter than my five foot eight. She had short gray hair cut like a pixy and almost always wore leggings or skinny jeans, in no deference to our dress code, which she created. Lilith was never seen without a boutonniere on her shirt or wrist, something speculated on throughout the company. That day she had an enormous sunflower pinned to her blouse.

  “Anna, we just wanted to clear the air about the incident last night,” Lilith began. “We don’t want you to get the wrong idea about what we do as senior managers.”

  “I’m not sure I’m following you,” I said.

  “What we’re trying to say, is that we don’t normally spend our senior management meetings playing virtual reality games,” Lloyd interjected. “I just thought it would be a fun team building exercise. I saw these gadgets on the Internet that were supposed to create lights and sounds to mimic a futuristic battle ground. They really are quite genius. Anyway, I just wanted to make sure you understood that senior management isn’t all about fun and games. We take the company business very seriously.”

  I shook my head clear. “Hang on. You’re telling me I walked in on a virtual reality team building exercise last night?” Bullshit.

  Lloyd and Lilith nodded. Eric, who remained standing at the back of my office, just arched an eyebrow.

  “Um … Okay? Cool? How am I supposed to respond to that, sir?” I asked Lloyd.

  He smiled and stood. “Exactly as you did. It was a cool experience. We bonded as a team. But Anna, please do keep it to yourself. We wouldn’t want all of our employees to be jealous that they aren’t annihilating virtual aliens during their meetings.”

  “Of course, Mr. Vance. My lips are sealed.”

  “That’a girl,” he threw me one last wink as he turned to leave. Lilith said goodbye and left behind him.

  Eric lingered back long enough to murmur, “Let it go, Jennings,” before heading back to his office.

  I sat at my desk for a moment, trying to recall exactly what I saw. Was there a chance it was all a big virtual reality scene? Yes. But I knew what I saw and I knew the queasy feeling in my stomach was telling me there was nothing virtual about it.

  I had just returned my attention to my task list when the unmistakable sound of Sir Mixalot’s “Big Butts” blasted throughout my office. Apparently my brother Michael had gotten a hold of my phone at some point. He loves to change my ringtone. “Big Butts” is actually an improvement from his last selection. Three weeks ago I was in a meeting with Eric Blake and Lloyd Vance when my cell phone started playing “Sexual Healing.” It’s amazing I’m still employed.

  I scrambled under my desk to retrieve my purse and silence my phone. Unfortunately, the damage was done.

  “Seriously!?” Came Blake’s exasperated voice from next door.

  “Sorry!” I shouted back. “Blame Michael!”

  I could hear him grumbling and chose to ignore it as I answered the phone.

  “Anna!?”

  Shit. It was Carl. My entire body deflated. “Carl? How did you get my number?”

  “Lea McIntyre.”

  “You know Lea?” I asked.

  “Everyone knows Lea,” Carl replied.

  Sweet Mother Mary in a tube top. Please do not let Carl know Lea in a Biblical sense.

  “Anna!” Carl whined, effectively snapping my attention back to the phone call. “I saw Lloyd Vance walking out of the building and I figured I’d follow him. You know, to see if he flew to his next destination or took a cab.”

  I groaned and rested my forehead on my desk.

  “He actually just walked across the street to that sandwich shop. So that was disappointing. But once we got here … Anna, I kid you not, he just disappeared. He was here, then he wasn’t! Do you know what this means!?”

  “Um … That he caught you following him and is now on his way to file a restraining order?”

  “What? No. Anna, it means he can teleport!”

  I rolled my eyes and prepared myself to deliver a verbal smackdown. Fortunately for Carl, my stomach chose that moment to let out a rumble that probably registered on the Richter Scale. You know the old saying that men only have enough blood to run their brain or their dingle? When I’m hungry, my brain shuts down. I’m pretty sure I only have enough blood to run my brain or my stomach.

  “Carl, did you say you were at a sandwich shop?”

  “Uh, yes. Why?”

  “The sandwich shop that serves those chicken salad sandwiches on croissants?”

  “I guess so.”

  “If I buy you lunch, will you promise to leave Lloyd Vance alone for at least twenty four hours?”

  Carl thought for a moment before replying. “Can I get a cookie too?”

  I laughed and grabbed my purse on the way out the door. “Absolutely. I’ll even buy you a soda.”

  “Okay, deal.”

  Five minutes later I was standing in line with Carl, still shivering from my frigid trek from the office, willing him to make a decision on his cookie before I ate my own arm off.

  I was about to just order one of every flavor when a familiar face caught my eye. Lloyd Vance walked out of the men’s restroom and made his way across the deli. Apparently Lloyd didn’t disappear, he just needed to make a deposit.

  “I think I’ll go with the snickerdoodle,” Carl said to the cashier. The man behind me in line muttered something that sounded like “Praise God” as the line finally moved forward.

  We gathered our food and attempted to find an empty table. This was a feat as the sandwich shop was truly just a sandwich shop and only offered four or five tables. Just as we were about to give up, a familiar voice shouted over the crowd. “Anna! Over here!”

  I turned and spotted Emmett Vance seated at a table with his father. I smiled and waved as we wound our way through the crowd.

  Of course, as soon as Carl spotted Lloyd, he gasped. “It’s him!” he whispered excitedly. “How could he just teleport into a chair in a crowded deli like this and nobody notice?!”

  I gave myself a mental facepalm and grabbed Carl’s jacket to speed him along. “Carl, Lloyd was in the bathroom. I watched him walk out. Don’t you think it’s even a baby bit possible that you lost sight of him long enough for him to slip into the restroom?”

  Carl was silent for a moment before replying. “I suppose it could have been when my mother called me.”

  I shot him an annoyed look over my shoulder as we reached the Vances’ table.

  “Anna, what a surprise!” said Lloyd Vance as he stood to shake my hand. “Join us, please!”

  I smiled and nodded my thanks as the Vances made room for Carl and me.

  “Nice to see you again, Ms. Jennings,” said Emmett as he pulled my chair out for me.

  I blushed and sat down, hoping the butterflies in my stomach wouldn’t make a break for it and flutter out my nostrils.

  “This is my friend, Carl,�
� I said, motioning toward my tag-along. “I’m sure you recognize him. He’s a Courier at Vance Publishing.”

  “Of course! It’s nice to see you again, Carl,” said Lloyd as he pumped Carl’s hand.

  Carl said nothing, just stared at Lloyd with eyes the size of saucers. I’m not sure if he was intimidated by having lunch with the CEO or if he expected Lloyd to suddenly teleport back to his office.

  Emmett leaned in close enough for me to smell his spicy cologne. “You never called me after your moment this morning. Did you forget about me?”

  My face flushed with guilt and embarrassment. “I’m so sorry. I was on a roll this morning and didn’t even pause to think about it. Do you have a deadline on a project? I hope I didn’t mess anything up.”

  Emmett smiled and shook his head. “No, no deadline. It wasn’t work-related. We can discuss it later.”

  Not work related? He’s not flirting with me, is he? The butterflies in my stomach quickly became a flock of albatross. I put a hand over my belly to settle my nerves and prayed the entire restaurant couldn’t see my blush. Thankfully, after a few seconds of deep breathing, I was able to focus on my lunch.

  The four of us dug into our sandwiches and made small talk. I was very aware of the press of Emmett’s thigh against mine as we shared the tiny table. In all honesty, there was probably room for him to have left a couple inches of space between us, but I was very glad he didn’t.

  We finished our lunches and thanked the Vances for sharing their table before heading back to work. Before we went our separate ways, I reminded Carl that he made a deal to leave Lloyd alone for at least twenty four hours. Carl nodded sullenly and trudged off.

  The rest of the afternoon dragged on. I couldn’t stop thinking about the alleged “virtual reality exercise” and whether or not I believed it. Lloyd and Emmett seemed perfectly at ease over lunch that day. They certainly didn’t act like I had recently stumbled upon a huge secret. I tried my best to let it go and concentrate on work. Never before had I actually wished for an emergency to strike, just so the afternoon could move faster.

  Finally, after what felt like eons, my desk clock read five o’clock. I began packing up my briefcase and was about to shut my computer down when I received a new email notification. It was from Emmett Vance.

  Have a good night, Anna.

  Insert internal squeal here. I squelched the need to do a happy dance and wrote him back, simply thanking him and returning the sentiment. With that, I shut down my computer and headed home for a quiet night of reality TV and snuggles with Fig.

  5

  Zombies are never sexy.

  Wednesdays are cardio days. Kickboxing class at 5:00, followed by a short run. I fed Fig, grabbed a protein bar and work clothes and headed off to Vance Publishing.

  After getting my ass handed to me in kickboxing class, I grabbed my water bottle and headed toward the treadmills. For some reason, we’d experienced power outages and flickers on and off. The treadmills only worked maybe half of the time. That day must have been a good day in the gym, as all of the machines seemed to be in working order. After a giving a victory whoop, I climbed on the nearest treadmill and set it to a slow jog as I started up my iPod.

  I hate running. It’s stupid. It’s boring. Music only entertains me for so long before I quit, not because I’m exhausted, but because I can’t take the boredom anymore. A few months ago I downloaded a mystery audiobook to listen to on the way to work. It was so good, I drove around the block for forty-five minutes, waiting to find out who the killer was. Light bulb! Listen to audiobooks while running! The best ones are raunchy romances or supernatural books about vampires and werewolves.

  Anyway, after starting out at a slow jog, I switched on my audiobook and prepared to zone out. I was just getting to the good part where the heroine has to decide whether or not to succumb to the sexy, badass vampire, when Eric Blake sauntered in and headed toward me. I gave him a quick nod and kept jogging, trying to ignore how muscular his arms looked in his workout tank.

  “Good morning, Jennings,” he said politely.

  “Good morning, Blake,” I replied, keeping my gaze forward and concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other.

  He eyed my iPod. “What are you listening to today? Vampires? Sexy zombies?” he asked as he climbed onto the treadmill next to me.

  I snorted. “For your information, zombies are never sexy. And not that it’s any of your business, but I’m listening to a biography on Jimmy Carter.”

  I lifted my chin a bit higher and looked over at him. He had set his machine at 5.0. I casually reached down and increased my pace to 5.5.

  The idiot character in my book was trying to pretend she didn’t care about the vampire. She was horribly offended by the fact that he wanted to drink her blood while porking her. She was walking away from him, fighting down her erupting lust, when he grabbed her arm, spun her around and –

  “I heard you had lunch yesterday with the bigwigs. How was that?”

  I hit Pause on the iPod and looked over to smile at him. “I did. I took Carl out to lunch at that sandwich place across the street. Lloyd and Emmett were already there and offered to share their table with us. It was very nice of them.”

  Blake didn’t reply, just smiled and kept running. I looked down to see he had increased his pace to 6.0. I hit play on my iPod and increased my pace to 6.5.

  The vampire spun the girl around and glared into her eyes. He knew she couldn’t look him in the eyes and tell him she didn’t want him. Her chest was heaving with need. His pulse was roaring in his vampire penis. He reached forward, ripped open her bodice and –

  “Cleveland won last night.”

  I hit pause on my iPod and took a deep breath before glancing at Eric. “And?” I asked.

  “Just thought it was interesting. They were picked to lose by 12,” he replied, nonchalantly.

  “That’s great. Thanks for sharing,” I said shortly.

  He tilted his head as a small smile played at his lips. “I’m sorry. I’m interrupting your biography on Jimmy Carter.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “No, it’s fine. Jimmy can wait. Is there anything else you’d like to talk about?” I was losing my patience and my breath.

  Eric shook his head and kept running. I glanced at the readout on his machine and saw he had yet again increased his speed. I narrowed my eyes, increased my own speed and hit Play on my iPod.

  The vampire ripped open the girl’s bodice. She gasped and tried to shove him away at first. Soon, reality set in and she knew. She knew her lust for him was too great to turn away. It was as if his vampire penis was a magnet to her slutty, slutty hands. She reached forward, grabbed his belt and –

  “Did you know Jimmy Carter was a peanut farmer before becoming President?” Eric asked, brightly.

  I hit pause and glared at him. “Yes,” I bit off. “I did know that. How interesting.”

  He grinned and increased his pace. I continued to glare and increased mine, jacking it up to an 8. At that point, I was at a full out sprint and couldn’t feel my legs anymore.

  I reached to hit Play on my iPod. The vampire’s leather pants were barely containing his blood thirsty hard-on as he gave out a growl and -

  “You know, if you were a vampire you could probably keep up with me on a morning run.”

  I whipped my head around. “God damn it, Blake! What the fu...” I tripped over my own feet and belly flopped onto the treadmill which flung me off and into a wall. I sat there, my head spinning, as Eric laughed so hard he had to hold his sides.

  Hot Ian, my resistance trainer, started jogging over to help me. Eric hopped off his treadmill, turned mine off and stood over me, still laughing.

  “Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, asshole,” I muttered. “You wouldn’t beat me if you didn’t use your super speed.”

  Blake rolled his eyes as he finished one last chuckle. “Anna, I don’t have super speed,” he said. “I’m just better than you. It’s not my fault I beat
you at everything.”

  I narrowed my eyes and let out a huff. “You are not better than me at everything!”

  He smiled and lifted an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Name one thing you’re better than me at.”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but for the life of me, I couldn’t think of a damn thing. Hot Ian finally made it over to help me up and inspiration struck.

  “Ow! Ow ow!!!” I cried. “Ian, my leg really hurts.” I batted my lashes and stuck out my lower lip to pout.

  Ian shot a scathing look at Eric. “You didn’t even try to help her up?” he demanded and shook his head as he bent down to help me to my feet. Tingles raced up my arm at our contact.

  “Ow!!” I winced and sunk back down to the ground. “Ian, I don’t know if I can walk. I… I feel a little shaky. Would you carry me, please?” I played up my baby blues and gave him a wide-eyed, hopeful look.

  Blake snorted beside me. Hot Ian merely smiled, bent down and scooped me up. I wrapped my arms around his neck and rested my head on his shoulder.

  “My hero,” I crooned. “I’m so glad I’ve got a big, strong, handsome man like you to help me.”

  “I’m so lucky to have a beautiful damsel in distress to tend to,” Ian replied as he turned and started walking us toward the locker rooms.

  I peeked over his shoulder and stuck my tongue out at Eric. Mature, I know.

  Ian walked me to the dressing room door and set me on my feet. “Sure taught him,” he observed, smiling down at me.

  “You knew?” I asked. Any self-confidence I had gained on the walk over deflated. It’s pretty bad when even Hot Simple Minded Ian doesn’t take my flirting seriously.

  Ian laughed and ruffled my hair, the static making it stand up straight. “I knew,” he confirmed, before leaning in close. “But it gave me an excuse to hold you, so I played along.”

  I had no idea how to respond to that. My eyes went wide and I’m pretty sure I babbled like a toddler.

  Here’s the thing, I can flirt with the best of them. I’m a great flirter. But when the flirtee even thinks about taking it a step further, I blow it. I stutter. I babble. One time I unconsciously switched to speaking in Portuguese. And I don’t even know Portuguese. This time around, I squeaked out some sort of response - in English, I think - and high-tailed it into the locker room.

 

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